Rise of the Dawn
by Viral Inque
Summary: We find the Scoobie Gang in the midst of another apocalypse, but this time there's more then just the world at stake...
1. Shades of Grey

Chapter 1: Shades of Grey  
  
"How's you arm feeling?" Spike asked, breaking the silence in the living room of 1630 Revello Drive.  
  
Willow lifted her arm and lowered it again gingerly. "Well, I have feeling in it again," she said drearily, "Not too happy about that."  
  
"Can't you just put it to sleep with a spell, or whatever it is you do?" Spike replied with a smirk. He went into his pockets and pulled out a cigarette. He lit it casually and sat down next to her on the couch.  
  
"Sadly, no."  
  
They gave each other an awkward look in an attempt at comfort and fell silent again. Willow got up and walked over to the front door and looked through it's little window. Buffy and Xander were outside making sure everything was ready for nightfall. The others were on their way. They would have to hurry if they were going to make it back in time. There was only a half an hour before sunset.  
  
"I can't believe its come to this," Willow said under her breath.  
  
"Hey," Spike said, picking up on Willow's words even though she'd barely whispered them, "Put a lid on that. We're not out of this fight yet. Not by a bloody long shot."  
  
"But I got such a bad feeling," she said, feeling a lump gathering in her throat, "We're not getting out of this one squeaky clean. It may even be too late for some of us already."  
  
Spike walked over to Willow, dodging the fading sunlight that leaked into the house without even thinking about it. He grabbed Willow gently by the shoulder and turned her to him until their eyes met. Willow blinked as her eyes flooded over with fresh tears. Spike felt a wave of his lost humanity wash over him as he looked at her, and tried his best to shake it off.  
  
"Listen to me," he began sternly, "It's bad. I'm not going to stand here and pretend that it isn't. But we're going to need to keep our heads if we're going to end it. We've got to see this through the to end. No matter what."  
  
"I know, I know," Willow said, taking a deep breath and wiping at her eyes, "But I got to deal somehow. So much has happened so fast it's hard to work through it in a, I don't know, a convenient fashion. And I'm worried about Buffy. She's been so detached. I can't even tell how she's feeling about all this. It's like-"  
  
"Willow," Spike said, cutting her off, "This is hard for all of us. But it's only going to get harder. We get all emotional now, we get really dead now. If we're going to salvage what we can out of this mess, you more then anyone else is going to have to keep focused on the matter at hand. I promise you a good cry when this is all said and done."  
  
"When did you get all supportive-like" Willow said abruptly, smiling despite herself, "Not that that helped any, but a valiant effort nonetheless."  
  
"I guess this whole thing is getting to me too," Spike said nonchalantly, "I'll be back to my old charming self in no time. No worries."  
  
"Way to ruin the moment," Willow said with a smirk, and they both managed a chuckle. Spike offered her a curt nod and an affable smile, then went back to his seat on the couch.  
  
"Hey, Spike," Willow said after a moment.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Thanks," she said, walking back to the couch, "I really appreciate the pep talk. It's been pretty intense this past week. And no one can really."  
  
"Think nothing of it."  
  
"Spike," Willow repeated, her voice taking on a more serious tone, "Thank you."  
  
Spike looked at her, and the look on her face. It was a look of sincere gratitude, something that Spike had rarely experienced in his life or his death. He got that feeling again, of his human side crawling out of the darkness and saying hello.  
  
"Anytime, pet," he said.  
  
They waited as the sunlight faded from the sky and night fell across Sunnydale. Outside, Buffy and Xander also waited, for the others to return. They were both armed, crossbows at the ready.  
  
"They should be back by now," Xander said nervously, "They've been gone for hours."  
  
"They'll be here," Buffy answered quietly, staring blankly off into the distance.  
  
Xander paced up and down the front porch, absentmindedly looking over his crossbow over and over again. He kept fighting with a feeling of helplessness that he couldn't seem to shake. He hated feeling like this. Like he had failed someone or something somehow. He knew he shouldn't, that getting down on himself wasn't going to accomplish anything. But he couldn't help it.  
  
"You think they'll find anything that'll help?" he asked, wanting to say something.  
  
"I hope so," Buffy replied, still looking out at nothing in particular, "Hey, did you get a chance to fix the back windows?"  
  
"Yeah, but it's getting worse here by the day," he said, poking at a large bruise on his left side that had blossomed overnight and winced, "I wanted to board them up, but I didn't have time. We're going to have to get around to it tomorrow."  
  
"I know," she said derisively, "It has to be done."  
  
They both looked out over the silent, deserted street. Sunnydale had become like a ghost town once the sun went down. During the day, people tried to get by as best as they could. Just the same, Hell was spilling over into the streets, and people were starting to feel it. You could see the fear and trepidation in their faces. Something was coming to a head soon.  
  
Xander tried to find a way to speak to Buffy. He wanted to try to break through the wall she had put up and find out what she was thinking, what she was feeling, without lighting her fuse. But what can you say to someone under these kind of circumstances. They didn't make greeting cards for this sort of thing.  
  
Somewhere down the street they heard footsteps approaching, and Buffy and Xander jumped to attention. They raised their crossbows and stood at the ready. There were several sets of footsteps, moving fast, at a run. They waited, then Tara and Oz came into view, and then Anya and Cordelia close behind them. They were all carrying as many books as they could manage.  
  
"Demon!" Cordelia screamed.  
  
"How many?" Buffy called out as they reached the front porch.  
  
"Two," Oz said through labored breaths, "They must have been tracking us all afternoon. We're so stupid! I can't believe we didn't notice."  
  
"Time to play," Spike said, bounding out the front door with his game face on.  
  
"Everybody inside," Buffy screamed, tossing her crossbow to Oz, the demons lumbering into view, "Xander, I need you on sentry duty."  
  
"I'm on it."  
  
Buffy and Spike met the two demons at the front steps. Spike took a swing at one and let out a scream as his hand came back covered in something that was burning away at his skin. Before Buffy could react, she did the same, with the same result. It seemed the demons were secreting some sort of acid. The smell of burning skin filled the air.  
  
They both lunged backwards as one of the demons took a swing at them. More corrosive liquid came off their skin and splashed onto the porch, making the paint warp and slowly burning through the wood.  
  
Buffy grabbed a sword that she had left laying on the floor and tossed it to Spike. Spike caught it, swung low at the demons knees, then came back up across its face in one fluid motion. The demon fell to the ground, dissolving to a liquid and seeping through the cracks in the walkway, killing every blade of grass as it went.  
  
At the same time, the other demon lunged at Buffy. She went for her crossbow, but forgot she had given to Oz. Suddenly an arrow came from above them and went through the demons shoulder, stunning him. Spike tossed the sword back to Buffy, and she went straight for the demons head. The body fell back next to the other one, but the head flew through the air and landed on the porch, where it burned a large hole straight through. They both shielded their faces as flecks of acid came at them from all directions.  
  
"Nice save, Xander," Buffy called out to Xander, who had been playing sniper from the roof.  
  
"No problem," his voice called out from above them, "Everyone alright?"  
  
Buffy and Spike surveyed the damage to their hands with disgust. It looked pretty nasty, but would mostly heal, for them anyway.  
  
"I'll get the ice, you get the gauze and ointment," Spike said with a sigh.  
  
"Deal."  
  
*Author's Note: Thanks for reading my story. feedback is appreciated. Hope to have another chapter up soon. 


	2. A Rogue's Gallery

Chapter 2: A Rogue's Gallery  
  
Back inside, everyone gathered in the living room to get an idea of what they were working with. Giles had taken all of his books with him, but they had still managed to find several volumes from Tara's and The Magic Box that might be of help to them. They even found a couple in the library of Sunnydale High that were left over from their days there.  
  
Xander looked over the pile of books on the coffee table. He hated to think it, but he couldn't see how this was going to help. "Research mode, then?"  
  
"I guess," Buffy replied as she examined her knuckles one more time before she bandaged them over, "Guys, how was vamp activity tonight?"  
  
"They were all over the place as soon as that last ray of sunlight left," Cordelia explained, "By the hundreds."  
  
"Yeah," Anya added, "But, what, with the big, nasty demons chasing us, they stayed clear for the most part. Plus, they were busy feeding on all the stragglers that didn't make it home in time. When will people learn?"  
  
"Random? Or were they send?" Spike asked.  
  
"Hard to tell," Oz said, "They were definitely top of the food chain at the moment. Until, well, a couple of minutes ago."  
  
Buffy rubbed at her temple. She couldn't get a grasp of anything that was going on. It was really aggravating her. Every time something seemed to fit into place, it simply didn't. What were they trying to do? And what had happened in the first place?  
  
"Um, a little help here," Xander said loudly, waving a hand in the air for attention. "We got the books, and that's good. But, what are we looking for?"  
  
"I want to know what happened to my sister?" Buffy answered sourly, and Xander stared down at his feet. The room went awkwardly silent.  
  
"Buffy," Xander said, pleading, "We need something to work with here."  
  
"I think we can use some coffee," Tara offered to the room, not liking the direction the conversation was heading in.  
  
"Great idea," Anya chimed in, nodding approvingly at Tara, "And some snacks. I'll help."  
  
"See if there's any Wheatabits," Spike called after them.  
  
"I want to help," Xander continued, frustration building in his voice, "I've been feeling pretty useless the last couple of days. What can I do? I just want to help."  
  
"You can start by shutting up," Spike mumbled under his breath, "Your getting on my nerves."  
  
Buffy's foot came out and hit Spike solidly on the shin. He ignored it.  
  
"What did you just say?" Xander answered, his frustration covered over with an edge.  
  
"Xander," Oz said, placing his hand on Xander's shoulder, "Not for nothing, but your not helping. Getting all worked up isn't going to get us anywhere."  
  
Xander offered Oz a defeated look, then grabbed a book off the pile and cracked it open.  
  
Anya and Tara returned, each carrying a tray of food and drinks, and sat back down. Everyone occupied themselves with a book, staring blankly at the pages. No one spoke. It had been like this for two days now. When it came down to it, everyone wanted to avoid the subject as much as possible.  
  
Willow glanced over at Buffy. She was slumped into her corner of the couch, her eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed. The sound of pages flipping was the only noise in the room. Willow scanned everyone's faces, one person at a time. She thought that if someone didn't do something, they would just sit here as they were slowly picked off. She swallowed hard and cleared her throat.  
  
"Hey," she said quietly, and everyone looked up at her expectantly. She paused for a moment, searching for the right words, "Um, I know no one is too keen on what's going on, but I think Xander's right. We've got nothing. We don't even know what we're looking for."  
  
She grabbed a legal pad and a pen off the coffee table and place them on her lap.  
  
"What I think we need to do," Willow continued, looking around the room hopefully, "As much as I know no one wants to, is make a list of every fact we got so far. Maybe somewhere in there we can find a clue as to what's the cause of this. Or at least why it's happening."  
  
Spike shifted in his seat. No one was going to come out and say it. He watched as everyone shifted their eyes away from each other. Willow sat, with pen in hand, looking from one person to the next, her hands shaking nervously. Spike felt anger welling up inside of him. They were just going to sit there and do nothing, he thought. He jumped out of his seat and walked to the center of the room.  
  
"Dawn is gone," he said loudly, annunciating each word clearly, "Giles is gone. And if you keep sitting here like a flock of stupid gits waiting for an answer to fall in your lap, they're going to kill us all."  
  
"Bugger this, I'll be outside," he added, then stormed out, slamming the door behind him.  
  
"Well, okay," Willow offered meekly. She tried writing it down, but her hands were shaking so badly she couldn't make out what she wrote. She ripped the page out and tried again. She missed her usual neat, slanted script, but it was legible and she left it at that. She concentrated on her breathing, which seemed to be suddenly necessary.  
  
"What else do we know?" she said, determined.  
  
There was another awkward pause in the room. Willow stayed poised with her pen on the paper.  
  
"They're not just gone," Xander said, taking in a deep breath and pushing the words out by force, "They've- they've gone bad. Right?"  
  
"Yeah, good," Willow said, jotting it down on her pad. She gave Xander a nod, as if to say thank you for coming on board. Xander understood, and returned the nod in kind.  
  
"Angel's dead," Buffy said, the last word barely making it out. She didn't move, just sat there with her arms crossed over her chest.  
  
"Yeah, and it looked like they were gunning for him from the start," Oz added quietly, "There may be something to that."  
  
"I'm going to take a quick look around the block," Buffy said, standing up and walking over to her duffle bag. She pulled out a short sword. "Make sure there's nothing lurking around the house."  
  
"Take Spike with you," Xander said helpfully, "And be careful."  
  
"I will."  
  
"I'll go with you too," Cordelia added. Everyone's head turned to her.  
  
"Huh?" Buffy asked.  
  
"I'm no good for the research thing, and I need some air."  
  
"Alright," Buffy said, handing Cordelia an oversized cross and a stake, "Just stay sharp."  
  
Willow watched as they left, still feeling unsettled about how Buffy was coping with the situation. She tried to pull everyone back to the same page.  
  
"Come on guys," she said, trying to sound confident, but falling somewhat short, "Think. What else do we know?"  
  
Everyone looked at each other. They really didn't know anything else.  
  
"Well she's got to be commanding some kind of power, right?" Tara offered shyly, "She's got all the vamps in Sunnydale under her wing. Plus, there's that Kaylos guy too."  
  
"Yeah, but he's working for Dawn," Xander said, "So he's just a pawn, not the one behind all this."  
  
"He is integral, though," Oz added, "He's third man on the totem pole, right below Giles."  
  
"So we don't think she under the sway of someone else?" Anya asked.  
  
"We can't be sure," Willow said thoughtfully, "Plus, if it's not someone, it could be something. Did anyone notice either of them wearing something unusual?"  
  
They all slowly shook their heads in resignation.  
  
"We've got nothing," Xander said, slamming his hand down on the arm of his chair in frustration, "They're keeping a low profile so we don't figure out what they're up to. They know too much about how we operate. They're beating us to the punch every time. What-"  
  
Xander stopped short as a sound came from the porch. They turned their heads to the front door. There were no footsteps, just the sound of something rolling along the landing, then a light thud at the door.  
Then there was an explosion, and the front of house went up in cloud of smoke and cinders.  
  
Author's Note: Thanks for reading my story. Feedback is appreciated. Hope to have another chapter up soon. 


End file.
